


Creep

by vampirekilmer



Category: Boondock Saints (1999)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirekilmer/pseuds/vampirekilmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The chief had called him into his office to tell him about the latest shooting: in hindsight, that one thing should have told Smecker something was terribly wrong."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creep

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired to write this story about two and a half years ago. Originally it was barely three paragraphs long, but recently I dusted it off and fed it some good, hearty Shepard's Pie so now it's two whole pages in Word!  
> While I was writing this I had Scala's cover of "Creep" on repeat, and would highly recommend listening to it while reading this story.  
> Thanks so much for reading - please feel free to leave comments and suggestions!  
> -VK

**"Creep"**

 _...Broken glass crunched under Smecker's brown leather loafers as he walked through what remained of the front door…_

The chief had called him into his office to tell him about the latest shooting: in hindsight, that one thing should have told Smecker something was terribly wrong.

 _…Blood was spattered across the small lobby area of the supposed travel agency, a testament to the vicious gun battle that had started at the front door and gone on for almost ten minutes…_

In the days after the courtroom shooting of Yakavetti the rest of the department quickly pieced together how exactly the MacManus family had gained entrance into the building. And while some of the cops resented the vigilante's work, they silently agreed to never speak of it. They all knew it was the only way the mafia don could have been taken care of.  
 _  
…It seemed as if half of Boston's finest were swarming in and out of the building. Setting up barricades, blocking off the road, and keeping back the ravenous press…_

For the following four months the MacManus boys and their father had cleaned up Boston, the crime rate plummeting as they either killed the scum of the earth, or fear chased them out of town. It was one hundred twenty-two days after the courtroom execution that The Duke took a bullet right between his eyes.

 _...Past the front desk, and into the narrow hall. Bullet casings and blood gleamed slightly on the floor in the light of the one remaining fluorescent bulb…_

He could still remember the hysterical phone call from Murphy, and the sound of Connor's muffled screams in the background. It took pulling every favor he ever had to cover up what had happened.

 _…Doors were kicked in on both sides of him, and if he had stopped to look in he would have seen the dead bodies of the owners. Scum. Monsters…_

Two days later he'd stood with the silent brothers as they buried their father. Greenly, Duffy, and Dolly had been their as well, offering their support. When it was all over, the two Irish boys dried their eyes and went back to work.  
 _  
…They had long known that this travel agency was actually a cover for some loan sharks, but they weren't the biggest priority to the department. Little had they known about the human trafficking. Girls kidnapped from spring break vacations in Cabo San Lucas, boys from leaving the night clubs of Bangkok. Little kids from school playgrounds…_

In the weeks following their father's murder, the MacManus brothers had gone from vigilante's for God, to his Angels of Death. The body count rose higher almost everyday and Smecker, along with the whole department, began to think they might be going too far.

 _...Third door on the right, and Smecker paused to take a breath…_

It was inevitable, really.

 _...Stepping through the open door and over another body, he entered the backroom…_

They had shown up at his apartment one night to warn him; Connor had told him they were going out in a few hours to deal with some bad men, and they might need his help cleaning up the mess. Murphy had stared at him with those unearthly blue eyes, stared right into his soul, and Smecker had known something was wrong.

 _…Connor was laying on his back in the middle of the room, a clean bullet hole in his left temple…_

No one had survived, so it was only speculation as to what happened to Murphy. Forensics finally decided that he had managed to kill everyone remaining in the room, but not before someone got off a lucky shot.

 _…A thick smear of black-red blood traced the trail on the floor where Murphy had dragged himself across the room. He was wearing his black wool jacket, but Smecker could see where three bullets had gone through him…_

Dolly and Duffy were against the wall beside him, looks of complete shock on their faces. Greenly was crouched beside them, weeping openly.

 _…Murphy had managed crawl to Connor, his head resting on his twin's chest. His right hand had fallen open, spilling four coins onto the floor beside them to mix with their blood…_

Smecker couldn't stop the tears. It should have never happened this way. They shouldn't be dead. He shouldn't have outlived them.

He felt like a creep, and yet he wished he could take a picture of them.  
 _  
…"A picture of love," he whispered to no one._


End file.
